A/N: Oh my god Ship-Seeking-Shippers and SuperNaturalDemonQueenx, you two make me so happy. :D Thank you so much for reviewing! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well! I'm updating a little early because I had a burst of inspiration and wrote a few chapters in one sitting today. I'm nearly done writing the entire story, and then the updates will be coming quickly.
Without further ado... Dean loses his hope, but gains more of Castiel.
Happy smut day. (:
Chapter Nine
There was a spring in Castiel's step. All was right with the world. He nearly skipped into the kitchen, a huge grin on his face.
Charlie blinked at him. "Did you get laid or something? You look unnaturally happy."
Castiel tried to tamp down his smile. "It's just a lovely morning, that's all." He gathered Dean's breakfast tray and balanced it in his arms.
"Have you looked outside?" she asked incredulously as he turned away. "It's as foggy as the creepy forest!" Castiel chuckled and was out the door.
Maybe he'd wake Dean up with a kiss. That was always a nice way to wake up. Or maybe something more... though Castiel hadn't gone much farther from anything else in his twenty-ish years. He'd start with a kiss, and then see how-
All thoughts of that stopped when he pushed open Dean's door. The man was thrashing in the sheets, sweating and mumbling nonsense, his face screwed up in pain. "No!" the king moaned in his sleep. "Please no!"
"Dean!" Castiel ran forward and grabbed Dean's wrists. "Dean, open your eyes! It's me, it's Cas, wake up!"
The green-eyed man shot up in the bed, gasping for air. "Cas?" he choked.
"Yeah, hey," he said soothingly, sitting on the bed and pulling Dean into his arms. "I'm here, it's okay."
Dean gripped Castiel's shoulders tightly for a few moments. When his breathing returned to a more normal level, he let go of Castiel and rubbed his eyes. "What happened?" he asked, voice a little ragged.
"I think you were having another nightmare," Castiel murmured as he helped Dean out of the bed. "Do you remember anything?"
The older man shook his head and stretched, the earlier panic almost completely gone. "Nothing." He walked towards the bathroom. "That's weird."
Castiel followed behind, unsure of whether to follow Dean in or not. "No breakfast?"
"Bath first. Cold broth is fine with me."
"So," Castiel said after stopping at the bathroom doorway. "Uh, should I stay out here, or...?"
It took Dean a second to understand the younger man's thought process. He pulled Castiel to him, tucking the shorter man's head under his chin. Castiel sighed into Dean's embrace, resting his hands on the small of Dean's back. "We can take it a little slower from now on, if you want," Dean murmured. Castiel felt the vibrations of his voice melt into his skin.
"Yeah," he murmured, pulling away to look at Dean. "For now."
The king grinned and attached his lips to Castiel's, pulling him in for a long, languid kiss. "For now," he repeated.
Castiel made up Dean's bed and sat in the sitting room while Dean bathed. His schedule for the day was pretty rigorous- In the morning, he was to hear the kingdom's grievances, then there was an Economic Council meeting to solve some sort of "incident" that happened. During lunch, they were to entertain a king who was passing through on his way to the far west- King Dick Roman. Castiel heard that King Roman's personality was synonymous with his first name. That was sure to be a difficult meal. In the afternoon, he was to go on a small game hunt with his brother, then approve a grand schedule of some sort of banquet coming up. Only then did Dean have some free time, and Castiel hoped he would be able to help Dean relax a little before dinner.
Dean stepped out into the sitting room, clad in a robe and rubbing a towel through his damp hair. "Busy day?" he asked, seeing the papers in Castiel's hands.
Castiel nodded solemnly. "Eat up." Dean kissed him on the forehead and did just that.
Castiel's eyelids were drooping. It seemed like days that he had been standing here, back against the wall of the throne room, watching Dean work through the subjects' petitions. To his credit, Dean was doing very well at keeping his head. Nearly every petition was about land or home damage due to a recent outbreak of brush fires. Judging by the deep creases in Dean's brow and the muscle in his jaw twitching every so often, Castiel knew that it was the backlash for his latest spells. The main river of the kingdom was cleared of pollution now, and not a day later, brush fires swept the places with the worst drought. Dean was taking it relatively well, though Castiel didn't know how many times this had happened.
He knew that with each day that passed, the one-year anniversary of the end of the Rebellion crept nearer. They had maybe a week left, and Dean had been doing his best to avoid the subject. Castiel hadn't pushed it either. They were both terrified and confused and anxious as hell. Their blossoming relationship had taken some of the edge off... but it was still there, looming over them.
Dean finally stumbled towards Castiel and his guards and they left the throne room. "What's next?" Dean asked, his voice gruff.
"The Economic Council meeting," Castiel winced at his own words.
Dean moaned in annoyance. "Great."
Castiel took the time to catch up with Gabe, who was about twenty feet behind Sam when the prince entered the council room. Once the doors were closed and the guards stood silent, the two walked down another hallway until they were out of earshot. Though Castiel was a squire, he still helped Gabe polish the brass candelabras.
"Any gossip for me today?" Castiel kept his tone light, though he already felt exhausted.
"I have a bad feeling," Gabe said solemnly.
Castiel tensed. Gabe's feelings were usually very accurate. "What about?" he asked.
Gabe sighed. "Maybe it's just because the anniversary of the Rebellion is coming up. Did..." Gabe's face was contemplative before he continued. "Did Dean tell you anything about the anniversary of that? Any... you know..."
"Prophecies?" Castiel finished for him.
Gabe looked relieved. "Good, you know. I didn't want to spill the beans unless they were already on the ground."
Castiel chuckled. He wondered how much Gabe knew. Gabe probably knew because Sam, so how much did Sam know? After a minute, he asked, "How much do you know?"
"I know that there was a prophecy, and that the endgame isn't good. I know the king is putting himself through hell worrying about it. That's about it." Castiel nodded. So Gabe didn't know anything about the magic or the Raven. That was probably for the best. "What all do you know?"
Castiel pursed his lips. "Just about the same as you," he lied. "But I see the toll it takes on Dean up close. It's heartbreaking."
"Have you been helping him through it, Cassie?" Gabe waggled his eyebrows.
Castiel laughed and chucked the rag at Gabe's face. "Wouldn't you like to know."
Dean looked a little better after the council meeting. He told Castiel that the Winchester coin, currency of the kingdom, was a little stronger than the last few months. But that because of one of the brush fires, the castle carpenter had his workshop burned to the ground. "Rufus Turner," Dean had said. "Cranky old bastard, but he makes art out of nothing."
"You ready for lunch?" Castiel asked.
Dean groaned. "It's Dick, isn't it?" Castiel nodded. "Dammit. Put on some armor, Cas. This is going to be messy."
It was messy. Castiel stayed mostly in the background with Garth, silent and avoiding eye contact at all costs. He could still hear every word of the conversation, though.
"Do you not put collars on your slaves?" the smarmy voice floated to Castiel's ears. He couldn't help but look up at the foreign king, blue eyes locking with muddy brown.
Dean stiffened at that comment. "They aren't slaves. They're servants of the castle, here of their own accord. And they aren't collared." Dean spat the last part, which prompted Sam to squeeze his arm in warning.
King Roman just sat back with a disapproving "hmph". "Pity. That one would look lovely with a nice collar on. How much?" Castiel's jaw twitched.
Dean's eyes were stone cold. "He is a human being who is not for sale."
King Roman leaned forward. "I'll pay a hearty sum for him. It's a simple business transaction."
"Not. For. Sale." Dean growled, effectively shutting down the conversation. The rest of the meal consisted of passive-aggressive comments and barely concealed dick jokes.
Castiel walked Dean to the armory for his hunt with Sam. When the guards left, Dean pushed Castiel into a hidden alcove and gripped his waist tightly. "I almost killed him," the king murmured, nosing around Castiel's jaw. "I would have really loved to kill him." Before Castiel could reply, Dean's lips were on him and he sighed. His fingers found short brown hair and tugged gently. Dean's lips were a perfect combination of soft and unyielding. Castiel nipped at his bottom lip and felt the green-eyed man's smile against his mouth.
"It's a good thing you didn't though," Castiel murmured against Dean's neck when they finally broke away. "You would've started a war."
Dean reclaimed his lips again, swiping his thumb across Castiel's cheekbone. "Would've been worth it."
After straightening themselves, the two met Sam in the armory and Dean promised he'd be back in an hour or so. Sam gave Castiel a little secretive smile before they rode off, leaving Castiel red and embarrassed.
The rabbit traps had been empty, but the brothers managed to catch seven wild turkeys between them. Dean was proud that they would be cooking them up for dinner. Castiel always thought Dean's proud face was adorable.
Within thirty minutes, the two sat in a ballroom with countless items strewn about and several people running around, asking them questions. There was the menu to approve, the decorations, the guest rooms...
"The Harvelle's are great," Dean told Castiel quietly. "Queen Ellen is a wonderful woman. She's the only queen I've ever known to rule without a king for almost twenty years." Castiel smiled. She must be quite a strong woman. "And Jo and I used to play as kids all the time. We were inseparable." Joe must be the prince. He'd love to meet Dean's childhood friends.
He was going to ask more questions, but Sam entered the ballroom with a bang. "Damn, Sammy, be a little louder, would ya?" He grinned at his brother, but Sam's face was stone.
"Chuck needs to see you," he said in a low voice. Castiel saw the color drain from Dean's face. Chuck- that was the seer. The one who had the prophecy.
"Finish up here, Cas," Dean commanded. Castiel saw that it was all Dean could do not to sprint out of the ballroom, Sam hot on his heels.
Castiel did his best to choose the right colors and approve the best dishes for this big party, but his mind was far away. After he was released late in the afternoon, he avoided Gabe and instead sat in Dean's room. He cleaned to get his mind off things, but it didn't help at all.
Chuck. Dean had gone to visit Chuck the seer, which meant there was either a change to his prophecy or a new one. Unless Chuck did other stuff, but Castiel didn't know anything about seers. How long did prophecies take to give? Was there a ritual? Did Chuck go into a trance or something? Or did they just talk? Castiel paced, feeling more restless by the minute.
It was well after dinner when Dean banged through the door. "Dean!" Castiel exclaimed, but Dean didn't seem to hear him. Castiel shut the door quickly and turned back to the king, who was pacing, pulling at his short hair and mumbling. "Dean, what happened? Where were you?" The man clamped his hands over his ears, shaking his head back and forth. Castiel's fear was increasing alarmingly.
Castiel marched up to Dean and yanked his hands off his face and to Castiel's shoulders to anchor him. "Dean, snap out of it." He shook him a little, and Dean's eyes focused on Castiel.
"Cas," he mumbled.
"Yeah, it's me," Castiel reassured him. "Are you okay? What happened?"
Dean did something Castiel never expected: his face screwed up and he burst into tears, sagging onto the younger man.
Castiel managed to drag the sobbing Dean to the couch and pull the larger man awkwardly into his lap. "It's okay, Dean," he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on his back. His grip was strong, but internally, Castiel was panicking. Dean was crying. Dean never cried. Something was very very wrong.
He kept it together until Dean's sobs quieted into sniffles. And then suddenly, he untangled himself and rose, stalking into his bedroom. Castiel was getting whiplash. "Hey," he followed Dean into his room. "Dean, talk to me."
Dean turned around and laughed humorlessly. "It's hopeless, Cas. We've lost."
"What do you mean?" Castiel pulled Dean to his bed and sat him down. "What is hopeless? What did we lose?"
A few more tears leaked from Dean's eyes. "Whatever I was trying to do with the ravens... It was all shit. It doesn't matter. We can't fight the prophecy."
Dean looked close to another bout of hysteria. Castiel pressed his lips to Deans, moving them slowly. He carded his hands through Dean's hair and felt the man relax under him. He broke away and touched their foreheads together. "Just tell me what happened."
Dean pulled Castiel onto the bed with him. "Chuck had another vision," he muttered. "Another prophecy."
"What did it say?"
Dean closed his eyes. "The raven's wings are bound and bare
That death so soon could take
A cage that man and nature share
That simple strength can't break."
Dean took a shuddery breath. "What does that even mean? The raven's in a cage? It's going to die?" He turned his green eyes on Castiel.
"I don't know," Castiel muttered. It didn't make any sense. The raven seemed to be the key, and now it was going to die before they even figured out what they were supposed to do? And what the hell was a cage that man and nature share?
Dean was shaking. "What do I do, Cas?" His eyes were full of sorrow.
Castiel felt heat prick his eyes. He didn't know, he didn't know anything. He couldn't help Dean, and that was all he wanted to do. "What do you want to do?" he whispered.
Dean's back hit the mattress. "I want to forget I heard that damn prophecy," he mumbled. "At least for a while."
Castiel bit his lip. It might not have been the right time, but Castiel was only human, and he couldn't stop himself. It one swift motion, he swung his leg over Dean and kissed him, hard. Dean made a surprised noise into Castiel's mouth, then surged up to meet him. Their tongues clashed and Dean gripped Castiel tightly. "Just think about me," Castiel nipped at Dean's ear, earning a moan from him. "I'm here, only me."
Dean crushed Castiel to him with desperate hands, anchoring himself. Castiel carded his hands through his short hair, pushing the pads of his fingers soothingly against his scalp. "Cas," Dean whispered. "Please." It was a plea for nothing in particular, but Castiel would be damned if he couldn't give Dean whatever he wanted.
With a new resolve, Castiel sat up on top of Dean and began to unbutton Dean's deep blue shirt. The king rucked up Castiel's own blue tunic around his hips and slid his thumb across the pale strip of skin there. With steady fingers, Dean's chest was bare and Castiel bent down to mouth the sun-kissed flesh.
"Mmm," Dean hummed at the warmth. Castiel kissed his way up Dean's throat and slid his tongue across the older man's jaw.
"Take your shirt off," Castiel commanded softly. Quickly, Dean sat up with a lap full of Castiel and pulled off the offending garment.
"Yours too," Dean whispered, already tugging the blue fabric upwards. Once it was over his head, Castiel surged forward and crushed his lips to Dean's, relishing the feel of his skin. Dean's hands traced lines up Castiel's back, fingers pressing into his shoulder blades. Castiel's hands drifted slowly down Dean's chest to his waistband and tugged at the buckle there. The older man pulled his head back. "You sure?" he mumbled, searching Castiel's blue eyes.
"Absolutely," Castiel replied, trying to work at the offending metal while still on Dean's lap.
In one graceful move, Dean gripped Castiel's waist and twisted the two over, rolling to fit himself over Castiel. The blue-eyed man's breathless look of surprise made Dean crack a smile. That smile- that's why everything will be okay, Castiel thought. As long as he could make Dean smile, there was something to salvage.
His train of thought was lost when Dean mouthed down Castiel's neck and nipped at the base of his throat. An aborted whimper escaped Castiel's throat and his hips bucked upwards, colliding with Dean's. Both men moaned and Dean rutted against Castiel again, desperate for the delicious friction.
"Pants," Castiel growled, remembering his earlier mission. His fingers were sure now, and the buckle slid open easily. He pushed at the waistband and Dean pulled them off quickly, leaving himself in the black boxers that he so often wore.
"Yours too," Dean breathed, untying the tan standard-issue squire's pants. Castiel lifted his hips and Dean slid them off, discarding them somewhere on the floor.
The green-eyed man crawled up Castiel's torso and reattached their lips, hands skirting down Castiel's sides. Castiel hummed into Dean's mouth and lifted his hips again, searching for the earlier feeling. Dean understood and ground down onto Castiel, their members sliding against each other with only two thin lines of fabric between them.
"God, Cas," Dean whispered against Castiel's neck, lips slowly sliding downwards. Castiel felt warm wetness flick over one nipple. He shivered; it felt surprisingly good. Goosebumps erupted over his skin as Dean moved downwards, nosing Castiel's bellybutton playfully. Breathless, Castiel laughed.
Dean traced Castiel's hipbone with his tongue, and the laugh turned into a throaty moan. Dean paused, looking up at the younger man for some sort of permission. Castiel nodded vigorously and Dean rid him of his briefs quickly.
For the first time since he was a child, Castiel lay completely bare in someone else's presence. Dean's eyes swept over his body appreciatively. Castiel felt his face heat up, almost embarrassed. "Gorgeous," Dean muttered before stooping to capture Castiel's lips heatedly.
Castiel suppressed a whimper, arching into Dean. He needed him now, now. "Please," he choked. Dean complied, immediately moving down, head to, well, head. A long stripe of heat washed over Castiel's member, and his head fell back with a surprisingly high-pitched moan. He glanced down just as Dean swallowed him down completely.
"God, Dean!" Castiel cried, fisting the soft sheets. The king's tongue pressed against Castiel's member as he bobbed up and down a few times, but stopped all too soon. The younger man whined as the warmth disappeared.
"Shh, Cas," Dean rubbed his hips soothingly. "I got you." A pillow was pushed under Castiel's hips and he locked eyes with Dean. "Do you trust me?" Dean asked.
"Yes," was Castiel's immediate answer. Dean grinned and pressed a wet kiss to Castiel's inner thigh. He continued the trail of kisses lower until his mouth hovered over Castiel's pink, puckered skin. A cry escaped his throat when Dean's tongue laved over the entrance.
Castiel writhed under Dean's ministrations, licking him thoroughly. Castiel barely noticed when a finger pushed against the hole, slipping through the rings of relaxed muscle easily. Dean's finger felt enormous but wonderful as it slid past Castiel's walls, wriggling around and retracting. Dean's mouth moved back up to Castiel's member as a second finger was added. The burn would have hurt, but the older man's mouth turned the pain into so much pleasure.
Castiel was unaware of his tight grip in Dean's short hair, but Dean didn't seem to mind. Wave after wave of pleasure shot through him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He was almost there when Dean's fingers disappeared, earning him a sad whimper.
In seconds, Dean was hovering over him, pressing little kisses to his face. A warm, blunt object nudged against Castiel's entrance and Dean pulled back, silently asking permission again. "Yes, please," Castiel pleaded, shifting his hips forward.
Dean claimed Castiel's lips again and pushed forward, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside Castiel. "Fuck, Cas," he growled, nearly shaking.
Castiel's eyes had rolled back in his head. He had never felt so full, like he was going to rip in half. It burned a little, but he liked the feeling. It was Dean, completely one with him, and it was amazing. "Dean, move," he commanded after a moment's acclimation, and Dean acquiesced, rolling his hips slowly.
Both men let out hearty moans. Castiel's nails dug into Dean's shoulders. "Ungh, more." Dean thrust in again and again until a steady pace was set. Castiel hung on for dear life. He shifted his hips and wrapped his legs around Dean's waist just as he thrust particularly hard, and he hit something in Castiel that shot a bolt of electricity to his core. "OhgodfuckDean!" he cried out as Dean let out a deep, "Yes, Cas."
Dean's pace quickened, hitting that magic spot inside of Castiel until he couldn't take it anymore. Heat pooled quickly in his abdomen. Dean shifted and wrapped one hand around Castiel's neglected member and he was gone, completely unraveled. He might have cried out, he didn't know, but he was vaguely aware of Dean biting down on his shoulder as he spilled into him.
When Castiel's vision cleared, he could see Dean pull gently out of him and collapse on the bed next to him. He reached blindly towards the bedside table where his discarded shirt lay, wiping the mess off both of them as best as he could before tossing the shirt and falling back onto the mattress.
Castiel rolled into Dean's waiting embrace, dragging the blankets up with him. Dean forced his eyes open and trailed his fingers down the nape of Castiel's neck. "You okay?" he whispered.
Castiel knew he'd be sore for a little while. Nevertheless, he grinned, sliding a hand around Dean's middle. "More than okay."
After a moment, Dean inhaled sharply. "I love you, Cas," he said, voice cracking a bit.
Castiel's eyes widened, heart stuttering. "I love you, Dean," he breathed. Was this really happening? The reality of the whole situation dawned on him- he was wrapped in Dean's arms after his first yet undoubtedly amazing time, and the man he had been in love with for months had just admitted his requited feelings? Castiel felt a prickling warmth behind his eyes. Don't you cry, Castiel Novak, he told himself. Instead, he buried his head in the crook of Dean's neck and inhaled the delicious scent.
Dean's grip on him tightened almost imperceptibly. "Stay with me?" he asked quietly.
Castiel couldn't say no if he tried. "Of course."
